


Cinder Maid

by imagineagreatadventure



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Cinderella Elements, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fluff, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-18 12:14:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19334335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineagreatadventure/pseuds/imagineagreatadventure
Summary: “Cinder Maid,” the Queen called her, after the young, ugly lady cleaned her fireplace, covering herself in dark soot. “That is what I shall call you,” she laughed. The laugh was high and cruel.~A Cinderella Story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Renee561](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renee561/gifts).



> Prompted with: "Good Enough" on Tumblr and apparently that leads to a Cinderella story -- part two should come out this week. :)

Once upon a time, there was a girl who loved her father.

She was not a pretty, little thing like most young ladies in fairy tales, but she was smart and loyal with eyes that shined like sapphires.

In truth, these were not the only things that made her remarkable. She was as tall and broad as her beloved father, which was significant for he was closer to seven feet tall than he was to six. They both towered over men and women alike.

But when she was young, she was closer to six feet than to five, and it is during her youth that our story begins.

Tragedy struck this poor girl quickly in her youth -- first, she lost her mother, then her eldest brother. These losses did not make her hard, however, truly they only managed to make her love her dear father more. Her father, who traveled often as a merchant, sailing across the seas that often matched his daughter’s eyes, had to remind her to let go when she hugged him goodbye. When he left on his long journeys, she was bereft, until the horse master her father hired long ago, an old soldier, taught her the ways of the sword and the steed.

And so this young maiden became a warrior in time -- for she struggled at other, more feminine tasks like sewing due to her build. Dancing was the one feminine activity she still excelled at due to the footwork she practiced every day with the horse master. Sometimes, childishly, the footwork she practiced made her long for a ballroom and a handsome prince. The prince of her kingdom, the youngest brother of the King, was very handsome, with eyes nearly as blue as her own and hair as dark as soot. She decided to love him after seeing him in a parade with her father in the capital and so imagined him in her dreams, the ones she spun when she worried over her father in nightmares.

Too soon, her childhood ended with a knock at her manor door. Her father, her wonderful father, was dead and gone, missing after a storm in the sea.

Her wonderful father had left their finances in ruin and soon the young maiden had to sell everything for the Iron Bank was harsh and would have taken it if she had not. Soon, even her own labor was for sale -- for the castle steward was looking for maids.

 _Perhaps this would save me,_ she thought, even as she dreamed of saving others with steel in her hand. But that was a foolish dream for a girl who wasn’t poor like herself. She was no highborn maiden -- she was not  _good enough_ for dreams any longer. A merchant’s daughter could only have dreams if the merchant made money and her father lost whatever wealth he had in the storm that took his life.

Work as a maid was not terrible in truth. The hours were long and the labor was hard but the young sapphire eyed heroine did not mind hard work and was used to long hours. She always woke up at the dawn in her other life.

Truly, the young lady could have gone on like this forever if it was not for the Queen.

The Queen was splendidly beautiful and truly looked like a fairytale with long hair like spun gold and emerald eyes. Her cheekbones were high and her lips were plump and the young maid looked at her and sometimes wished that she could have looked like that instead of like her father.

But then she learned of the Queen’s cold heart and was grateful for her ugliness. For if the Queen’s beauty hid an ugliness, then the maid’s ugliness hid a beauty.

The Queen abused her servants, slapping them, hitting them, sending those who displeased her off to a man named Qyburn -- most of these were never seen again. It would have frightened a lesser girl but our maiden was brave and kept working, knowing that if she saved enough coin, she could leave.

Until the Queen found out about her swordplay.

The young maid thought she was quiet and was often able to disguise herself as a man as she played with the wooden swords that she kept from her home but the Queen spotted her one early morning and recognized her.

“You, girl,” the Queen said after the maid gave her tea. “Why do you wake so early to play at swords? You are a woman. An ugly woman, but still a woman.”

The maid was too shocked to answer and the Queen had to repeat the question, her annoyance growing. “I was taught as a girl and loved it, your Majesty.”

The Queen, with a callous and cruel smile, said: “But you are no longer just a girl, but a woman and if I see you hold a sword in your hands again, I will make sure your hands are cut off.” The young maid could say nothing to that, only bowing her head, and holding back her tears. She thought of leaving the capital but remembered how another maid fled after invoking the Queen’s wrath. That maid was later found by the Queen’s sworn sword and taken down to Qyburn.

The King, of course, knew nothing of his wife’s behavior and possibly would not have cared anyhow. He was too busy with his hunting and his women to notice anything amiss. His brothers, including the one our young maid loved from afar, took care of most of the Kingdom but also ignored the Queen’s behavior.

What would they care for a serving girl’s tears?

The Queen’s youngest brother cared and once handed a young maid a handkerchief to dry her tears, but he had left to bring back the Queen’s twin to the capital. The King had ordered him to the city for reasons unknown.

“We will throw a ball when he arrives!” the King declared to his council -- but our sapphire-eyed maid knew nothing of this --  _yet._

She was too busy dealing with insults and threats from the Queen -- and at last, name-calling. “ _Cinder Maid_ ,” the Queen called her, after the young, ugly lady cleaned her fireplace, covering herself in dark soot. “That is what I shall call you,” she laughed. The laugh was high and cruel.

Cinder Maid, as we shall now call our heroine, did not cry but kept forward, thinking of ways out of her situation. She thought about appealing to the prince that plagued her dreams, but could not find the courage to speak to such a man for she was no one of importance any longer.

She rode off on a horse one day, after befriending the stablemaster, riding around in the Kingswood with a soldier’s eyes. Perhaps she could leave one day, once she saved enough. Perhaps she could leave for Essos or go home. They did not know where she was from and could the Queen truly care enough to order her home?

Cinder Maid did not know the answer. She wanted to solve the puzzle and perhaps would have if she possessed more time to think on it. But her thoughts were interrupted in the forest with a shout and a clang of steel.

Without worrying for her safety, she rode ahead to the sound and found the Queen’s twin brother fighting bandits (although she did not know it was him), his men dead beside him. Hopping off the horse and grabbing a sword from a fallen soldier, she joined the fray and killed a man.

Once the fight ended, she was struck by the beauty of the Queen’s twin -- recognizing who he was in an instant. He laughed at the sight of her and she could not help but scowl.  _She had just saved him after all._  “You are a woman!” he declared, his words unable to hide the marvel in his voice. “And you know how to fight! In a dress of all things. Tyrion, come out and look, you do not need to hide in the carriage any longer.”

The Queen’s younger brother’s eyes alighted on her as he stepped out of the carriage cautiously, but, thankfully, it seemed he had never taken notice of her in the Red Keep. “Thank you, my lady.”

“I am no lady,” she corrected, her cheeks reddening. “And I only did what anyone would do.”

The Queen’s twin could not believe what he was hearing. “Most would have run like the cravens they are, but you did not.”

“I could not leave you helpless.”

“I am not helpless,” he responded with a smile. “What is your name?”

“They call me Cinder Maid,” she said. 

“They call me Kingslayer,” he responded back with a snap and then she remembered how he had killed the former King, “and they call him the Imp, but that is not the only thing we are. What is your true name?”

Cinder Maid did not want to tell him -- for what reason she knew not.

“Jaime, we must go,” the Imp, Lord Tyrion, said. “Leave her be.”

Jaime’s gaze did not leave hers as he nodded. “Until we meet again, my lady.”

She opened her mouth to correct him but he was gone, back in the gilded carriage with his brother before she could.

Cinder Maid ran into him several times after -- never in the Keep, but often when she was out in the city, buying herbs, gazing longingly at the armories, staring at the sea and the docks and wishing for her father.

His tongue was cruel but his smile was not and soon she often wished for him to walk with her but knew that would never do. She was a serving girl and could not have friends as high as a Lord Paramount.

Not that one could tell who he was when he walked in the city. He hid his golden hair under a cloak of red. It was easy to tell he was rich but not that he was a  _Lannister._

She wished his sister was more like him, for then she could have served the Queen happily. A sharp tongue did not bother her as much as cruelty. And while the Kingslayer was not kind, in truth, he was not cruel either.

And truly sometimes he could be kind and generous. He did not know who she was still, she refused to let him know, and was fortunate enough to not serve the Queen when he was near. But he knew she was not well off and he learned enough about her to know that she has used to be and offered to purchase her home for her. “ A Lannister Always Pays His Debts,” he said when she declined. “And you saved our lives that day.”

He had never admitted to that before.

But still, she declined.

“Then let me buy you a dress and a suit of armor.”

“A dress?”

“There is to be a ball for Prince Renly,” he said. “And all of the maids of the Kingdom are to be invited -- like Aegon the Unlucky, the Broken King. This was how he found his bride, wasn’t it?”

“I thought it was only highborn maidens.”

“The Maiden’s Day Cattle Show,” he smirked. “True enough, it was, but I suggested it be open to all the ladies of the city as a show of goodwill.”

“I am sure your brother enjoyed that.” It was no secret that the Imp liked to visit whorehouses. 

“So did the King,” he said. “But, in truth, I did it for you and ladies like you. Perhaps you can snag a second son or a third or fourth and leave this treacherous place.”

She turned her eyes on him and he was struck by the pretty blue. He had never looked that deeply into them until that moment and wished to look into them for longer than he ought. “I will go, I suppose,” she said. “If the King truly does will this.”

“He does.”

And he did. Not long after their conversation was the ball announced and the next time Cinder Maid saw the Lord Paramount, he hid a dress under his cloak. “The armor will come later once you let me know where you live so I can have it delivered.”

“I cannot tell you.”

“Shame,” he said, handing her the dress. It was as blue as her eyes and soft as the Queen’s hands.

“It’s silk!” 

“It is -- I want to make sure you find yourself with the nobles.”

“Why?” she asked and the talkative Lord found he could not answer.

She tried not to think of him or Prince Renly as the days passed, the hour of the ball drawing nearer and nearer. But at night she could not help but dream of  _lions._

A strange mixture of dread and excitement lined her stomach like bile as she folded the Queen’s things the morning of the ball. She was going to the ball -- as all the maids were but in a dress made of silk. She had never owned something so beautiful. She knew she could never be beautiful but...

Her musings were interrupted when the Queen appeared, her face so delighted it almost frightened Cinder Maid. “You stole,” she crowed. “You are a thieving, ugly beast and now I can finally rid myself of you.”

 _You always could._ “What did I do to upset you, your Majesty?”

“A silk dress?” the Queen laughed. “How could someone like you have a silk dress unless you stole it? Not that it would help you, you ugly maid. Go, lead her away,” she told her guards and that was how our heroine ended up in a dungeon.

For the first time in ages, our heroine let herself cry, although it did not last long. She was too determined to find a way out. She pulled at the bars and it did nothing. She kicked them too but that did nothing but hurt her foot.

A voice from the cell beside her spoke. “What are you doing, my dear?”

“Trying to escape,” she answered honestly.

“To live and fight another day?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that? What do you have to live for?”

The words escaped her mouth without a thought. “I must stop the Queen.”

“ _Until another... more beautiful.._.” the other voice responded and the maid could not think of what she meant. Silence flowed until: “Do you wish to go to the ball and marry the Prince?”

“No, I do not dream of him any longer.”

“Aye — you dream of another.”

Our maiden bit her lip and the voice said, “You are free, Brienne of Tarth,” and suddenly the door to her cell opened.

“How do you know who I am?” Brienne asked, once she stood outside the other cell, for she had not said her own name in so long she had almost forgotten it. The woman inside it was not pretty with crusted yellow eyes and a terrible smile. “How do you know of who I dream?” Brienne asked, feeling foolish in front of this woman who was even uglier than herself.

“I know everything, Cinder Maid, so I know of your name and your love for the Lannister lord.  but do not fret over my status here, I will have my vengeance soon enough.”

“How?”

“You must attend the ball,” the woman said and with a flick of her wrist, Brienne was suddenly in a dress that seemed to be made up of blue starlight. “No one will know you are in this, I promise you. No one will remember that you are the Queen’s maid.” This was a lie — for one would know her no matter what she wore.

“What must I do there?”

“You must do nothing but dance with whoever you choose, do not worry, I will take care of the rest.”

With those troubling words, Brienne left the witch in the dungeon, following the path she was instructed to take. Soon she found herself outside the ballroom, where she could hear flowing music hiding the announcements of the highborn ladies.

She was not a highborn lady but nor was she nothing. No one was nothing in her mind and so she opened the door that led to her fate. She spoke her name to the herald, her true one and then took a step —

“Brienne of Tarth,” the announcer declared and Prince Renly recognized the name instantly.

“I remember her father,” he said to his brothers — although not far off, Jaime Lannister listened. “He was a good man — taken advantage of the Iron Bank, I recall, with some bad trades and deals. But he was an easy man to work with — for a merchant.”

“Was?” Jaime asked, his gaze not leaving Brienne’s figure. He knew the stubborn girl anywhere and was gratified to finally learn her name.

“He died in a storm, his daughter had to sell everything. Although I suppose she must have had enough money for that dress.”

“She looks vaguely familiar,” Tyrion said and Jaime looked at his brother with surprise. He did not see her? “Quite ugly.”

“Yes, not very pretty,” Prince Renly smirked. “Not exactly who I had in mind for a bride — if I must marry at all.”

The King snorted with laughter. “Aye, perhaps she’d be better with the Kingslayer. An ugly bride for a beautiful groom instead of the other way around.”

Jaime bowed. “Then I shall ask her to dance,” he said, gritting his teeth, and left them all, knowing their expressions would range from aghast to amused.His sister would not like it but he could not care. She gave him up for a crown and for several other’s beds long ago.  

He found Brienne and took her hand before she could stop him. Her blue eyes widened. “Ser, my lord —“

“Let us dance and say nothing else for a while,” he said, smirking as he took in her blush.

And so they did.

Until Jaime took her hand again and led her out in the gardens. “Tell me the truth of it all,” he demanded.

Brienne resisted for only a moment and then spoke of it all: her childhood, her home, her father, her father’s death and debts, how she found an occupation with the Queen, how the Queen hurt others and how no one noticed, how she saved him, how she ended up here now.

“My sister does like her little games,” he said. “You are safe now, my lady. And do not protest about being a lady,” he laughed, “for you will be one soon enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean to marry you, of course,” he said, surprising himself. But it felt right -- the idea of her in his arms, the idea of her in his bed. She may not have been a beauty but Jaime had never cared. It wasn't Cersei's beauty he loved, it was Cersei. 

And now he loved a maid.

Brienne became rigid in his arms. “I am not good enough for a Lord Paramount — I am only a maid.”

“A warrior maid perhaps,” he laughed, not unkindly.

“She will hurt you if you marry me,” Brienne said and knew it truly.

“She couldn’t.”

But Brienne knew he was wrong and so, so suddenly it startled Jaime, she ran, ran, ran into the night, past the guards and the gardens and the halls where she worked herself to the bone for years, past the nobles and smallfolk alike.

Ran so fast that she forgot a slipper in her haste.

A slipper so large it could fit no other maid but Brienne of Tarth.

Jaime found it on the stairwell as he ran after her cursing for now she had no protector but herself. 


	2. Chapter Two

The trumpets blared and the city sighed once the Herald was in view on top of the stairs of the Sept of Baelor. The citizens were sick of the herald’s pronouncements for they had heard three of them in one day: Prince Renly was to marry Lady Margaery Tyrell, a dangerous prisoner escaped during the ball who was taller than a mountain, and their King was ill — what on earth was this fourth announcement to be about?

“Lord Jaime Lannister has announced he will give five hundred dragons to anyone who has information on a young missing maiden who fled during the ball -- she is tall and broad and missing one slipper.”

Five hundred dragons was no small sum and so this announcement stirred much more interest than the rest.

Including the Queen’s. “Why do you care for that ugly girl, this Brienne of Tarth?” she asked. She, fortunately, had never learned her serving girl’s name, still referring to her as Cinder Maid. “I saw you dance with her — how do you know her?”

“Jealous, dear sister?” the Kingslayer asked, although there was only a little malice in it. It had been years since he last entered her bed — when their father died something cracked between them and it had never been the same since. “She saved my life.”

The Queen scowled as Jaime smiled at the memory. Her beauty only grew with the scowl. “Keep your secrets, brother, but know the King will never let you marry a commoner.”

“The King can’t stop me if I wanted to,” Jaime reminded her. “And I doubt he’d try for I am a Kingslayer — although perhaps you are about to be one too.”

The Queen’s thoughts whirled away from her brother, her twin and she _wondered_.

Meanwhile, Brienne was hiding in the Kingswood, grateful that she was able to ride away. She may have loved Jaime Lannister, something she had never been able to admit to herself until they danced together, their movements matching so well it felt as if she flying in the air. She had never had a man hold her like he held her and she idly wondered what it would be like to kiss him, until she shook such childish, girlish thoughts aside.

She could not be with him — the Queen would harm him or harm her once she recognized Brienne for who she was — a prisoner, a commoner, a nothing.

In some sort of magic, the dress she wore the night before turned into cotton pants and a cotton shirt and so she was able to appear as a man to those who didn’t look carefully. The leftover slipper, however, still gleamed like sapphires and so she hid it, unable to throw away her one connection to _Jaime._ She had to leave for Essos — although how she’d do such a thing without money, she was not sure. Could she find another way? Or… could she go home? Back to her island — back to her father’s house? It belonged to no one now (or rather, the Iron Bank) and she missed it dearly. She would have tarried longer in these dismal thoughts if someone had not recognized her with a shout — for it was the Prince of her childhood dreams.

“I hope the Kingslayer will give me those five hundred dragons,” Prince Renly said with a charming grin.

He was beautiful — but not as beautiful as Jaime. “What do you mean?” she asked, “who do you think I am?”

“The Kingslayer has fallen in love apparently and has sent forth a proclamation regarding it — if anyone could find his missing bride they will be gifted five hundred dragons.”

The amount astounded Brienne. “Please, your Grace, I cannot marry a Lord Paramount.”

Prince Renly cared little about her words but smiled sweetly all the same. “Come, girl, it is of no matter. You will be rich and so will I.”

He ordered his guards to take her but Brienne, even without a weapon or armor, was able to disarm one and take his sword and fight off the others. The Prince was aghast although he began to laugh once his last sworn sword was defeated by the large woman — although none were killed, only knocked out. “I see why he likes you,” he only said. “Come, girl, why are you afraid? I knew your Father once — he was never afraid of anything.”

“Perhaps he should have been,” Brienne said, thinking of a summer storm.

“I cannot take you back by myself,” Prince Renly admitted after a moment. “And I doubt my dear bride wants me without a head or without the five hundred dragons I promised her — so I ask you, my lovely lady, why will you not marry him?” He hoped to assuage her with quick, false words of kindness and generosity, not knowing the stubbornness that lay in her heart.

“He will be harmed if I do — I am no lady, your Grace. Nor am I lovely — I am not good enough for him and his sister knows it well.”

“Cersei?” the Prince frowned. “What does _Cersei_ have to do with all of this?”

“Ask the witch woman in your cells,” Brienne offered, unwilling to say more, and then left the Prince in the woods.

The Prince did so as soon as he entered the Red Keep and then, afterward, came upon Lord Jaime with a laugh on his lips. “You realize your bride to be is the same woman that your sister wants to be put to death for escaping — she was arrested for thievery, something about a silk dress?”

Jaime had many words to say to that but kept silent. Prince Renly’s smile grew harsher, “And I hear that your sister may be the reason Robert is now ill? Do you know anything about this?”

“I know nothing of my sister any longer,” Jaime said.

“I believe you,” Renly said, after a bout of silence. “And I have a plan to fix this.”

The plan was stupidity itself in Jaime’s mind, but he agreed once he heard, not having any better ideas. Perhaps Tyrion would have had some suggestions but he wasn’t eager to involve his younger brother. “So I shall go around the Kingdom asking for each maid to fit this slipper?”

“The witch woman promised it would fit none but your Brienne of Tarth,” Renly grinned.

Jaime misliked it. “Fine,” he agreed and soon another pronouncement swarmed the land — that every maiden was to come to the castle to try on a slipper.

Cersei was the first to insist on trying it, in the privacy of her rooms. “You are the Queen and a married woman,” Renly said, for he was in charge of the debacle, but agreed nonetheless, not eager to point out that she was also Lord Jaime’s sister.

It, of course, did not fit, for Cersei’s feet were as small as her waist. It reminded Cersei of when she tried on her mother’s shoe as a child and she misliked the memory. “Get it off,” she ordered her new maid in a yell and the poor maid did so.

Jaime wasn’t around to watch maidens slip their foot inside a shoe that wouldn’t fit them. He knew Brienne would not come to the castle for she had promised as much to himself and to Prince Renly. Instead, he sought her out in the Kingswood with two sworn swords beside him, his Uncle Kevan and his childhood friend Addam Marbrand. “This seems a poor idea,” his uncle said but Jaime ignored it as he usually ignored his uncle.

It didn’t take too long for Jaime to find who he was searching for and he smiled at her, pretending not to know her. “Excuse me,” he said, watching as Brienne pulled at her hood to hide her sapphire eyes. “I believe we are a bit lost. We are looking for the road to the Island of Tarth.”

Brienne swallowed and lowered her voice. It was not a very good impression of a man. “You are on the right path, sers.”

“Ah,” Jaime smirked. “I told you, Uncle. I knew where we were going. Although…” he stopped. “Could you guide us further, _young man_?”

Brienne breathed a sigh of relief and then shook her head. “No, I must get back to the inn where I work.”

“Is there an inn near? It would be good to rest.”

Feeling trapped and foolish, Brienne found herself agreeing to take the man she loved and his men to the inn where she had found work a sennight past. She let them sit at a table and hid in the stables, grateful that the innkeeper wanted her to clean out the muck anyhow. She hoped Jaime wouldn’t follow her there — now that he thought she was a man…

Although that hurt in truth — that Renly could recognize her and Jaime could not.

“Do you need assistance?” a familiar voice asked, and she found Jaime at the stable’s entrance, looking more beautiful than he had the right to look. When she thought of the Warrior, she saw _Jaime._

“No, my lord,” she said, bowing her head away.

He watched her and sighed. “You are always so stubborn.”

Brienne’s head snapped back up and she looked to him, mouth agape. “You knew?”

“You are not a good liar,” he said. “And of course I knew. You are hard to forget.”

“Why… why are you here?”

“If you will not marry me, I will not force you,” he said, not answering her question.

“But then why —“

His smile was wry. “I owe you a suit of armor don’t I?”

Brienne’s heart beat faster as he approached, his footing soft and assured, as if he was approaching a wary, wild horse. When he was finally in front of her, his green eyes blazing, she closed her own eyes and let him kiss her. His mouth was soft and sweet, and his hands grabbed her hips the moment their lips touched. She found herself touching his hair and his shoulders and his arms, unwilling to let go of him. “Jaime,” she said, pulling herself away. “I do not know what to do.”

“Kiss me again,” he said, his lips curling in a smirk. His eyes were soft, though, and so she could not help but bend down and happily do as he bid.

In the castle, other things stirred. Whilst maidens arrived by the dozen, a sailing ship that no one had seen before also arrived in the harbor. The importance of which would be seen later — for no one could think of it when the announcement that the King was no longer ill came about!

Once Renly knew it was poison sapping his brother’s life, he was able to instruct the maester into supplying the King with an antidote and soon the King was alive and boisterous as ever, calling for his wife’s head.

“No, my dear brother,” Renly grinned. “She is to become a Silent Sister, I promised Lord Lannister this once we determined her sins — and wouldn’t that be more torture to Cersei Lannister than death?”

The King laughed at the thought of his beautiful, outspoken wife forced to hide her beauty and keep silent and serve the dead and agreed. “Not in King’s Landing, though,” he said.

“Aye, we are sending her to Oldtown where no one will know who she once was, brother.”

The plan was settled quickly and assuredly and by the time Brienne and Jaime walked into the Red Keep, Brienne settled in beautiful blue armor with a sword with a pommel set with sapphires to match, the Queen was no longer a Queen but a Silent Sister cursed to never speak again.

The witch woman smiled at Brienne in the throne room and so Brienne held her head up high as Jaime placed the slipper in front of her. “Will you try this on, my lady?”

She did, her fingers trembling as she placed her foot in the slipper. A clamor arose as high as the sky -- for the slipper fit.

“I suppose we shall marry then," Jaime said with a truly terrible smirk. 

“I suppose we must,” Brienne agreed, a beautiful smile appearing on her face, one like Jaime had never seen.

He hoped to see it every day.

“Arise, my betrothed,” Jaime smiled and then kissed her in front of nobles and commoners alike.

Not long after their happy announcement did the witch have another surprise in store for Brienne and her beloved.

“I bring your riches for the Seven Kingdoms, your Majesty,” the mysterious merchant announced when he appeared in the throne room not a sennight after the slipper fit, “and I can tell you what is west of Westeros — a whole world of mysteries and gold and lands we can trade with who want to know more of us, as much as we want to know more of them.”

“I shall grant you a lordship,” the King announced in his booming voice. “Tarth needs a lord, does it not, Renly?”

“Aye, it does,” Renly laughed for he knew who the merchant was, “and that island was once your home, wasn’t it, ser?”

Selwyn smiled up at the Prince. “It was.”

“Your daughter will be quite happy to know you are not dead,” Renly said.

Jaime, who had not been paying attention, dreaming of sapphire eyes, spoke: “Your daughter Brienne of the island Tarth, ser?”

“You know my daughter, my lord?”

“Aye, I do, very well.” Jaime watched the man carefully, "She is to be my wife.”

Selwyn Tarth’s smile was so like his daughter’s. “Truly?”

Jaime waved a hand and Brienne, who had been watching the proceedings in shock, came beside him and took her betrothed’s hand. “Father?” she asked.

“My Brienne!” he said and she ran down and they embraced.

Tyrion Lannister laughed and spoke to Prince Renly, “I suppose this is what a happy ending is?”

“If you believe in those,” Prince Renly smiled, “I suppose this is exactly that.” And that is what it ended up being -- for the evil Queen was defeated, true love succeeded, and a Prince found his best match (who just happened to be his new wife's brother). 

_And, of course, the slipper fit._

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a tumblr prompt so I did very little editing but I hope you're enjoying it despite this! Like I said at the top, will hopefully have an update this week.


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